


Pretty

by ye_old_cactus



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cussing, Deliberate use of the word "Pretty" as a pet name, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, One Night Stands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-04-15
Packaged: 2018-10-19 02:52:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10630632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ye_old_cactus/pseuds/ye_old_cactus
Summary: He's been working all day, he hasn't eaten since morning and the workload is increasing every day with the holidays approaching.Roy Mustang, is stressed and overworked so instead of going home and rest, he decides that a visit to his favorite bar will do him good.Needless to say, it does him more than just good.





	

**Author's Note:**

> unedited, sorry
> 
> thanks to LittleBlueFox19 for helping out with typos

It’s fucking freezing outside and it’s barely November. As the holidays approach more and more paperwork needs to be done before the year ends so Roy had been working from sunrise to way past sunset and couldn’t take the time to even get lunch, which had him grouchy all day, but instead of going straight home after he finally got out of work like his very wise assistant told him to do, he decided to head to his usual bar to get the stress out of his system for at least a while. 

He didn’t even have time to change. He’s still wearing his military uniform with a long black coat to avoid freezing to death and a white scarf around his neck that doesn’t really do its job well. He had thought about getting rid of it but he just couldn’t. He has his hands deep in his pockets appreciating the warm feeling until he has to get one out to open the door to the bar. 

The place is perpetually dimly lit and warm, or warmer compared to the cold outside. He scans the place like he does every time and goes to sit on his usual spot at the bar counter, only to find it occupied by a long-haired blonde person talking to a woman and the bartender. Roy sits next to the blonde on the right side and discreetly leans in to see them.

It’s a boy… a man? His features are boyish and at the same time he looks very mature. His eyes are golden, several shades darker than his hair which he has all in a high ponytail except for his bangs that frame most of his face so Roy can’t see him properly, and he has a faint scar above his right eye that you can only see when he moves his hair or throws back his head laughing.

Roy catches the bartender’s attention and asks him for his usual. Creature of habit, Roy Mustang is. 

It’s not after a while that he looks back at the man next to him. He’s definitely younger than Roy, seems barely legal even, but under those boyish features, Roy knows he’s a least a decade younger than him, so about 24 years old, maybe.

He talks to the people who approach him and to the bartender, but never to the blonde boy. He doesn’t realize it but now he’s drank definitely more than usual and he’s feeling but a bit tipsy. It’s okay, though, he doesn’t have to work tomorrow, still he decides to call it a night after a few hours there. He’s about to leave when he feels a pair or golden eyes looking at him.

“Hey, handsome,” the boy says.

“Hey, pretty,” he answers back, because what are inhibitions?

“Like what you see?” the boy grins and, man. Roy indeed likes it very much. 

He’s wearing a blue tank, snug leather pants, boots and to top it all he’s fucking shredded, even clothed you can see it. He has a lithe form, but tanned muscular arms. His collarbone is prominent and as drunk as Roy is, he can’t help but imagine his tongue exploring it. So, yes. He likes what he sees very, very much, though he goes for a shrug and a smug grin, which the boy returns.

“Roy Mustang,” he introduces himself extending his hand in a greeting.

“Hm, Mister Big Shot, I see,” the boy says moving on his barstool to face Roy completely, “aren’t you running for Führer?”

“Glad to be recognized,” Roy jokes, “and yes I am, but even this Big Shot needs a break, don’t you think, pretty?” he winks.

“Definitely. Edward Elric, I go by Ed, very nice to meet you, Mister Big Shot.” Ed shakes Roy’s hand. 

“Likewise,” he let’s go of Ed’s hand but not without noticing how callous his pads are. “What brings you here tonight, pretty?” 

“Just wanna have some fun with a nice handsome man,” he mirrors Roy’s wink and touches the hand Roy has on the counter. Rubbing tiny circles with his index finger.

“I see… would you like me to invite you to a drink while you find one?” he asks completely sure Ed understands the innuendo in his voice. The boy gives him an almost wicked smile and speaks.

“Why don’t you better take me to your place and fuck me silly?” 

And Jesus, he thanks all the Gods there are that he isn’t drinking anything because he would’ve choked and probably died, and if Roy wasn’t sure about taking this kid home, he sure as hell is now. He tries to compose himself enough to smile and nod but he thinks he’s failing. Luckily the boy doesn't laugh or say anything.

“Lead the way, Big Shot,” Edward says taking the red coat on the back of his stool and gently touching Roy’s thigh with his left hand.

••

As soon as they get to Roy’s home, Edward’s on him, he can barely open the door with Ed clinging to him and touching him in all kinds of good ways.

He slides off his coat and takes Ed’s, too. They’re so close and Roy’s hands are on Ed’s waist while Ed’s hands are around Roy’s neck.

Ed’s moving his hips against Roy’s in such a way that it could put the whole pornographic industry to shame, and Roy swears he tries to hold back but, well, he’s just a man.

He slides his hands to cup Ed’s ass and Roy is no one to believe in fate and soulmates but something tells him he was meant to meet Ed’s… _ass_. It’s perfectly round and just the right amount of muscle and fat. He has never felt a butt so perfect in all his life and then again he's thanking all the Gods for creating such a perfect thing.

“C’mon, Big Shot,” Ed challenges him, “put those hands to use.”

And Roy needs no second telling because the next thing he does is lift Ed until he puts his legs around Roy’s midriff and carries him to the nearest wall for support then proceeds to rub their bulges against each other while his tongue finally gets to explore Ed’s collarbone and neck.

He can’t tell what Ed’s saying, he only hears him moan and try to form words with no meaning or sense, and Roy himself is about to come just by the rubbing motion.

••

All that happens next is a blur, not because it was bad but because he was in such a high it feels almost surreal; he remembers taking Ed against the wall, then on the couch, then the floor then the couch again (kind of) and he knows they did it on the bed, too. 

He knows this because that’s where he wakes up the next day. He’s dead tired and completely naked, the sun is filtering through the closed blinds so it must be early morning.

It takes him a moment to recover and shake the sleepiness out of his system and just as soon, he finds himself alone in his bed. Go figure.

He gets up from bed, not even caring about putting underwear on, he lives alone so it’s not like someone can see him and heads to the bathroom to look at himself in the mirror, he has dark circles under his eyes from all the paperwork he’s been doing all these days without rest, he eventually sighs and shaves and brushes his teeth before going to the kitchen to get coffee.

There are three things he doesn’t expect there. One is the blonde man at his kitchen table wearing nothing two, a white apron Roy didn’t know he had and three the breakfast for two at said table.

“Uh, morning,” he greets confused.

“Hey Big Shot,” Ed answers back and then adds, “how’s that old man body of yours doing?”

“Ah, it’s, uh, okay,” he sits in front of Ed, and now thinks that maybe he should’ve put something on, because he’s butt-naked and having breakfast with the guy he fucked, more than once, last night.

“Listen, Mustang,” Ed says as serious as he can with a mouthful of eggs and toast, “I know this is weird and the last thing you expect is me still being here,” bingo “but I’m crazy hungry and your freezer has like a shit ton of food that I don’t even think you use seeing as how you’re in the news most of the days and I’m guessing you work the rest of them.” He’s right. “I get it, dude. You’re busy, you’re Mister Big Shot, future Führer of Amestris and the last thing you want is a scandal of you fucking random boys you meet at bars, so I’ll just eat my eggs and I’ll go after you pay me.”

Roy’s heart stops at that. A prostitute, he fucked a fucking prostitute. Jesus fuck. He’s gonna get eaten fucking alive. He didn’t know, that… that’s something, right? Hawkeye is going to kill him. Fuck, he can’t let Edward go without talking to him to keep his mouth shut. What if the actual big shots find out? His whole political career could go to shit, and forget about being the Führer. Fuck, he’s so dead.

He’s having a mental breakdown when he hears Ed laugh. He has his hands on his ribs and his eyes are glossy with tears. Roy can see the eggs half chewed and worries when Ed starts to cough but he’s still too fucked up to react properly.

“I’m kidding, Jesus. You should’ve seen your face,” he says in between laughs and coughs.

Roy’s too shocked to say something so he just tries to even his breathing, his heart’s still hammering his ribcage and it kinda hurts but he tries to hide it. Fuck, he’s never been that scared in his fucking life. He’ll never take anyone else home ever again. 

They eat their breakfast quietly but Ed laughs every once in a while checking his phone. They’re not even trying to make small talk or anything. They’re just having breakfast naked... or well, mostly naked because Ed’s wearing the apron.

Ed gets up first and washes the dirty dishes, including Roy’s who finished a little after Ed. Roy only stares at his ass, wishing he could have it again as dessert. Ed looks back catching Roy staring and he grins. He moves his hips side to side provoking Roy.

“Wanna have a bite, Big Shot?”

“I wanna have more than a bite,” he gets up from the kitchen table and positions himself behind Ed. He doesn’t hesitate to move a finger from Edward’s ribs, rounding his back and sliding down in between his ass, which is still slightly slicked from last night, after they both practically passed out without cleaning themselves or showering. Ed can’t move as he’s still washing the dishes but he spreads his legs apart easily, welcoming Roy’s fingers. 

While his fingers get Ed worked up, and his left hand is touching his stomach and nipples under the apron, his mouth is going for the neck, again. Ed’s at least a head shorter than Roy so he has to crouch a little. How he manages to kiss Ed’s neck at the same time his fingers slide in and out of him is a wonder Roy’s not about to question. 

“Show me what you got, pretty,” Roy whispers in Ed’s ear at the same time he curls his fingers and Edward moans.

“R-Roy,” Ed shivers and Roy can feel the way he wantonly says his name all the way to his toes. They’re sweating already even though the room is cool and Ed’s inability to move only makes Roy want to control and monopolize him, or that is until someone knocks on the door. He tries to ignore it but of course it doesn’t work. He’s about to yell at whoever interrupted him until he hears Hawkeye’s voice calling for him.

“I’m sorry we have to finish this here, pretty,” he kisses Ed on the cheek and curls his fingers deep inside the boy, who only moans and nods.

They go back to Roy’s room -- after he tells Hawkeye, without opening the door, to wait -- and get dressed as fast as they can. Roy’s really heartbroken to bid farewell to Ed… and his ass, but so is the life of a politician, not even free on his free day.

He opens the door for Hawkeye to get in and Ed to get out. Hawkeye doesn’t even flinch. Ed is out the door but before leaving he turns around to talk to Roy. 

“Guess I’ll see you around, Big Shot,” he says and Roy swears he feels a bit of hope in his voice. 

“Wouldn’t you like that, pretty,” Roy winks.

“Whatever, bastard.” He laughs and turns around to leave, Roy takes advantage of the distraction and slaps his ass softly to what Ed laughs again and shows him the middle finger.

“Hope I’ll see you soon, pretty.” Roy says as he sees Ed go and then wonders why he actually meant that.


End file.
